


FIRE: Light and Heat

by Melina



Series: Elements [3]
Category: Lord of the Rings (Novel), lotr - Fandom
Genre: M/M, joy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-21
Updated: 2004-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melina/pseuds/Melina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn shows Faramir his home in the North, and something far more important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FIRE: Light and Heat

Fourth Age  
On the shores of Lake Evendim

Faramir looked up at the sky and smiled at the stars. It was mid-spring, and the air was clear and cool, but the fire kept their small campsite warm and pleasant. He still was not quite sure why Aragorn had wanted to make this journey, but the surroundings were deeply relaxing, the peace and calm seeping into his bones.

The royal court was currently at Annúminas, the northern capitol of the restored kingdom, where Aragorn, Faramir, and their wives were spending two months in residence, traveling throughout Arnor. This night's sojourn, however, was not between Annúminas and some other part of Arnor; indeed, they were just miles away from the rebuilt city, on the opposite side of the lake. It was not the traveling court with its tents and servants, but just the two of them, with their mounts and a few supplies.

They had left that afternoon at Aragorn's urging, leaving word with no one but their wives, who smiled both knowingly and solicitously. Arwen's arm had slipped around Éowyn's shoulder, her face bearing what could only be called a wicked smile, as she wished them a "pleasurable journey." Éowyn had smiled at him over her shoulder, before whispering something in Arwen's ear that made both women laugh.

He smiled at the memory, blessing the Valar for the women in their lives. The thought of the two women stirred his own blood, and he looked over at Aragorn. He sat across the fire, watching Faramir intently as he smoked his pipe. Faramir asked his question with a raised brow.

"Just watching you," came the low reply, the voice rich with caring and amusement, "and thinking that you look happier than I have ever seen you, save perhaps your wedding day, or the night Elboron was born."

He grinned, thinking of his beloved son, now two years old. "Why should I not be?" he asked, rolling onto his side so he could meet Aragorn's eyes more easily. "Am I not the most fortunate of Men?" He winced and pulled a rock from underneath his shoulder, tossing it away. "Though one might wonder why we have given up comfortable beds to spend the night here."

Aragorn set aside his pipe and smiled in return, the expression more intimate than a kiss. "Are you out of practice in resting out of doors?" he teased gently. He moved around the fire, his graceful movements still those of a ranger. Aragorn settled beside him, propped on one elbow, his back to the fire. The amber flames framed his body, the warm glow surrounding him.

"Perhaps," Faramir said, aware that Aragorn would share his reasons in his own time.

Aragorn reached toward him, stroking Faramir's cheek with the back of his fingers. "Because I wanted you to see this, to show you the north as I knew it when I was young."

His voice was warm but casual as he gestured toward the rolling hills just beyond the lake, lightly forested with tall trees. In the distance, the Blue Mountains were lit by the waxing moon, the reflected light creating an otherworldly beauty. To the south, although they could not see it, lay the Shire, which the Rangers had labored so long to protect. This land was more than a place where Aragorn had served and fought; it was a part of him, as much a part of him as his ancestry, his sense of duty, and his love for his people.

Faramir studied his companion with understanding, his heart filling with tenderness. This intimate outing was more than a king wishing his steward to understand a distant part of their realm; Aragorn wanted Faramir to come simply because of what it meant to him. More than the villages or the restored cities or even the Shire, the North meant nights like this to Aragorn, when he was alone in wide-open spaces, save whatever he brought with him.

And tonight he had brought Faramir.

He reached out, caressing Aragorn's neck, enjoying the contrast of rough beard and softer skin, cupping his chin before drawing him forward for a kiss. The kiss was easy, undemanding, yet as their mouths opened Faramir could feel the heat begin to build between them, warmth quickly growing into desire.

As they paused for breath, their eyes met, and Faramir thought he had rarely seen Aragorn as fully alive as he appeared in that moment, his body framed by the amber flames, his eyes reflecting the blue-gray moonlight. His eyes spoke of some indefinable emotion, something more than just passion or desire. He reached for Faramir, pulling him close for another kiss. The connection between them sparked, and Faramir felt it surge through him as his skin tingled and his sex hardened.

Aragorn broke the kiss long enough for them both to breathe. Faramir's pulse pounded as Aragorn's eyes raked boldly over his body, as if he might devour Faramir, and it might have been frightening had his eyes had not been lit with affection. Clothes were quickly shed under practiced fingers, the annoyance of having to stop kissing long enough to remove them quickly abated by the feel of skin against skin, heat against heat.

"Mmm..." Aragorn voiced his appreciation as Faramir slid down his body. His skin was warm, bathed by the heat of the fire and flushed with arousal. Savoring his taste, his scent, the texture of his skin, Faramir kissed and caressed his neck, his chest, his belly. He felt Aragorn's fingers on the back of his neck, threading through his hair, the gentle caress inflaming his own ardor. Aragorn's body arched underneath him when Faramir took his cock into his mouth, swallowing as much as he could in a single movement, smiling at the vocal evidence of Aragorn's pleasure.

"Faramir..." Aragorn murmured, before gasping something in Elvish. The hand on his neck sought to guide him now, and he submitted to it willingly, his own desire slaked for the moment by the need of the man writhing underneath him. He continued to move his hands, his fingers exploring and caressing every inch of skin they could find as he savored the feel of Aragorn's sex in his mouth, pressing against his throat. He felt a sharp thrill as cries of pleasure reached his ears, and he relaxed under the grasp of the fingers in his hair. He gave himself over to Aragorn's passion, to the quickening rhythm of the thrusts in this mouth, ignoring his own throbbing erection. With a cry, Aragorn came, and he moaned around the softening cock as he swallowed, kissing it tenderly before allowing it to slip from his mouth. He rested his head on a warm thigh, denying the urgency of his own desire.

Not so for long, because Aragorn's arms urged him upward and pressed him against the blankets, kissing him thoroughly once more. He wrapped his arms around Aragorn's back, reveling in the feel of hard muscle beneath his hands. He pressed his hips upward, unable to resist the friction offered by Aragorn's body, still flushed with heat. Aragorn pressed him back gently, his eyes flickering with amusement as he reached between them, taking Faramir's cock in his hand.

"Oh..." he cried, only barely able to keep himself from coming at that moment, so perfect was Aragorn's touch. It grew better -- and worse -- as Aragorn slid down his body, keeping his eyes locked with Faramir's as he did so, watching the anticipation grow before licking his way up the entire length of Faramir's cock.

He moaned again, thrusting his hips, aching for more. He glanced down to find Aragorn watching him, smiling as he shamelessly sought Aragorn's touch.

"You are beautiful when you do that," Aragorn whispered.

His heart skipped a beat at the expression in Aragorn's eyes, but he had no breath to voice a response. Instead he reached for Aragorn's neck, guiding him back toward his own aching sex. Mercifully, Aragorn stopped his teasing and engulfed him swiftly, leaving him breathless, his heart pounding as he gasped for air. He felt Aragorn relax underneath his hands, the soft hair under his fingers a sharp contrast to the wet heat surrounding his sex. He thrust blissfully, aware he wouldn't last long, but beyond caring. Everything seemed to have slipped away, everything but the love and desire he felt for the man underneath his hands, and his own need for completion.

He gasped in surprise when he felt a slick finger push inside of him and unerringly find the spot that made him writhe with pleasure. Thrusting uncontrollably into Aragorn's mouth, he came, closing his eyes as he cried out Aragorn's name.

Slightly lightheaded, he lay back and tried to catch his breath as he felt Aragorn's body beside his once again, nuzzling his cheek and neck. They rested together for long minutes before Faramir spoke.

"Aragorn," he whispered.

"Mmm?" he asked sleepily.

"I'm glad you brought me here," Faramir said. Aragorn's eyes opened then, and their gaze met. Faramir could tell from the expression that flickered behind his eyes that he recognized Faramir's understanding, that Faramir knew why Aragorn had brought him to this place.

Aragorn said nothing, but smiled in return, kissing Faramir with a dreamlike intimacy before wrapping his arms around him. Snug in his embrace, Faramir stared into the firelight, thinking that its heat was nothing in comparison to the warmth the body next to his offered. He glanced up at the stars once more, whispering thanks for his blessings before dropping off to sleep.

~ end ~


End file.
